Sunday, December 10, 2006

Noodles at the Bellagio Hotel


Las Vegas, Nevada
Phone Number Not Available
Price: $20-$25

By Allison Loudermilk

The next time you’re living large in Las Vegas, consider dim sum instead of diner food after a long night of partying. Roll a die off the craps tables of the Bellagio’s casino, and you’ll hit Noodles, a noodle house turned tasty dim-sum joint on the weekends.

The bustling restaurant serves dim sum, the Chinese version of brunch, Friday through Sunday from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. from a spare, beautifully appointed space jammed next to other eateries. The stunning interior, designed by Tony Chi, features marble floors inlaid with gold Chinese characters and floor-to-ceiling wood shelves lined with glass jars that hold every imaginable type of noodle. Unlike the other eateries, however, this casual dining venue typically demands a wait.
Unless you’re with a very large party, Noodles doesn’t take reservations, the manager vaguely informed me. So on a Sunday afternoon around 1:45 that meant standing behind the velvet ropes with my husband for about 10 minutes and shamelessly eavesdropping on surrounding conversations to pass the time.

Once seated in the nonsmoking section, the white-smocked, no-fuss staff immediately set up on us. They brought a steaming pot of oolong tea ($4), a traditional accompaniment to the Chinese meal, and wheeled over steel carts full of the snacks characteristic of dim sum — some surprisingly savory and inventive, some substandard.

Sliced almond shrimp ($5.50), whole shrimp cloaked in delicate almond slivers and paired with a creamy sweet mayonnaise dipping sauce, marked a delicious if expensive departure from the usual dumplings and chicken feet. Pork buns were served steamed ($3.50) and baked in a sugary casing ($3.95) that wrapped around a filling of tangy barbequed meat, the taste of which would have made most Southerners proud. For dessert, a poker chip–sized flaky tart filled with a dollop of egg custard ($3.50) satisfied our collective sweet tooth.

Shanghai dumplings, sticky rice and pork shumai, the reigning crowd favorite according to our server, fell flat. The dumplings, stuffed with crab and pork and melded together with a hint of ginger, weren’t worth $6.95 for three. The bland sticky rice ($3.50) got stuck in your throat, and the lump of pork shumai ($3.50) might as well have been plucked from the frozen-food section.

The diverse and occasionally naughty crowd snapping up dim sum and noodles didn’t seem to mind these missteps. The seemingly sedate blonde seated with her party at the six-top table nearby waxed enthusiastic about an all-male revue featuring buff Australians in their skivvies, while popping a steady stream of dumplings into her mouth. The family seated two tables over may have had to cover the ears of their toddler holding court in her high chair. The ancient Asian couple seated across the room at the best spot in the house — one of four low, exotic wood, rectangular tables with leather-backed benches — had eyes and ears for nothing but their noodles.

The restaurant’s limited selection of dim-sum fare costs between $3.25 and $6.95 (for the chef’s specials), and credit cards are accepted. If you’re in the mood for alcohol to ease that pesky hangover, Noodles offers an assortment of Asian beers including Asahi, Tsingtao, Singha, Kirin and others, and it seems like the kind of place where no one will look at you funny if you order one before noon.

Like everything in Vegas except the buffets and the Motel Six, Noodles is overpriced, but damned if it wasn’t fun while it lasted. A pot of Chinese tea and ten small plates ordered a la carte set us back $70, after tax and tip. In comparison, dim sum at Atlanta’s ever-popular Canton House on Buford Highway runs about $15 per person. But then again, after a lucky streak at the craps table, maybe price won’t be an issue for you, high roller. If not, head for Noodles, where delectable dim sum is served with a side of glam and polish.

2 comments:

Jace said...

"...the manager vaguely informed me." That statement and all the other peripheral information was just as useful as the descriptions of food and the pricing.

Miles Moffit said...

You've just made me decide that it is lunchtime.

I'm with Jace.